Picking up the pieces
I'm very glad Christa missed the uniquely-private hell of bereavement as I hate the thought of her going through the anguish I did. I have Viktor Frankl to thank for that simple but deep insight from his book "Man's search for meaning". I'm sure people think "He must be over it by now, surely?" Yes and no! For me and Peter nothing will ever be quite the same again; we have both1 had to learn a new "normal" and navigate accordingly.
Four years further along the pothole-strewn highway of this journey called Life, I've gained more distance, more perspective, and (I hope) some wisdom.
The bereavement "process"
From my own thinking, the reading I've done, and talking to other people who have — in varying circumstances — observed or directly experienced bereavement I have at least formed one conclusion: It now seems to me you don't actually ever "get over" the death of a partner like Christa. Nonetheless, as time ticks relentlessly along, and further life (and death) experiences accumulate along the way, one morning you wake up and realise you can live with it. Of course, the sooner that morning arrives, the sooner you can get on with the rest of your life. I think I fully understand that now... but, believe me, I have to say it's taken me quite a while to reach2 this point.
An observation: There is a period of several weeks (months? years??!) where denial and occasional bouts of futile anger at an uncaring Universe are initially rather too much to the fore. The Universe rolls on unaffected (unlike me!). Predictably, the company of good friends works far better than good Scotch during this roller coaster ride. And it is a roller coaster — a form of transport I have always hated.
Practical advice: Virginia Ironside's book "You'll get over it — the rage of bereavement" (as she says, you won't, but let that pass) is fantastic, and much the best of the dozen or so I've now read or skimmed in bookshops.
A truism: 'Tis better to have loved and lost... than never (etc etc).